"I heard you scolding my poor dad about his bow-window.

In fact, you woke me up; and, do you know, you used exactly the same words as you did at your visit after we came down from London last year." "Bless me, my dear," said the Colonel, struggling to his feet, and kissing his niece upon the forehead, "what a memory you have got! It will get you into trouble some day." "I daresay--me, or somebody else.

But history repeated itself, uncle, that is all.

The same sleepy Me in a lounge-chair, the same hot day, the same blue-bottle, and the same You scolding the same Daddy about the same window.

Though what on earth dad's window can matter to anyone except himself, I can't understand." "I daresay not, my dear; I daresay not.